


Karen's Yard: A Christmas Shitfic

by reminaissance



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Drunk Driving, Elsanna Monthly Contest, F/F, Modern Era, Satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminaissance/pseuds/reminaissance
Summary: me: "what if i wrote something very stupid for the monthly contest?"my dumb friends: "FUCK YEA"
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32
Collections: Elsanna Shenanigans Monthly Contests Submissions





	Karen's Yard: A Christmas Shitfic

**Author's Note:**

> i dedicate this to my dumb but also very smart friends - fish & T - i love you in a no homo way. and to dulce, for supporting my dumbassery and bc i do love you in a very homo way

Cover by Fish

*****

Anna was staring at her reflection in the round, ball-like sphere ornament colored in Halloween orange. She looked like a fish, she thought. Like one of those orange fish with creepy eyes and their brains sticking out. She was wondering when Elsa was going to come out of the damn room. She was growing impatient, and she was not the impatient kind. Not at all.

The sound of a rubber chicken caught her attention. She turned around, found Elsa standing there, cringing at said chicken that lay under her foot like a limpy, screaming creature. And what the hell was Elsa wearing?

"You look like a fucking Christmas present."

The chicken protested.

"That's the point," she said.

"But a cringy one. Like the one your distant aunt gives you and you hate it but have to smile anyway and say thank you and then leave it in your closet for the rest of eternity." She scanned her again. "Your face looks very cute, though."

"You just insulted my entire outfit, am I supposed to thank you for calling my face cute?"

"Yes."

She stepped closer. "You look like an oompa loompa."

"I was aiming for citizen of Whoville."

"No. Oompa loompa. The original version."

"I don't even know the original version so your insult falls flat."

Elsa shrugged.

There was a party they were supposed to attend. Elsa knew somebody who knew somebody else, and their cousin, and whatever. It spread like gossip. Or was it wildfire? No. The gossip did the spreading and the wildfire was the analogy. Anyway, Anna was very excited to go to this Christmas thing because it's been a while since she's attempted to get drunk off eggnog. And so what if she looked like Willy Wonka's fucking spawn?

It was cold outside. Hella. My-ass-is-frozen-and-my-teeth-will-fall-off-from-so-much-chattering cold. Anna could not think. She could not even respond when Elsa asked her if she wanted to stop by Starbucks and get a hot chocolate. But she shook her head. _I don't want hot chocolate I want alcohol your honor._ So the party it was. Elsa drove like a grandma. Ice was her excuse but Anna was not having it. She drove like a grandma on summer too. And on spring. And on the fall when you couldn't decide whether you wanted to cozy it up in your bed or dig yourself a nice dead-leaf grave.

"We'll get there tomorrow and nobody will get to appreciate my oompa loompa costume."

"You've disgraced enough eyes as it is."

"Only yours."

"Mine are the only ones that matter."

"Who taught you to be so vain?"

"You."

Anna nodded. The wig nodded with her. Both were proud nods. "I've taught you well."

They almost veered off the road at some point; almost drove into a snowman, Santa and the horse-looking reindeer that were set up on the obnoxiously decorated yard of some Karen's house. It's the ice, Elsa said again. But nah. She was a slow driver and a shitty driver too. Anna would have offered to get behind the wheel but she was even shittier. So she prayed instead, and played Mariah Carey's Christmas album until she was sure she hated it with her whole being.

The house was warm at least. Its smell, however, was a concoction of spilt American beer—the cheap kind that tasted like piss when lukewarm—and the cinnamon scent of those generic candles everyone hated but went on buying anyway because they were so cheap.

Anna made a beeline for the kitchen. She forgot who it was they were here for. The cousin of the friend of the coworker or something. Anyway, bless them for keeping the place stocked up with alcohol for those souls who come to this abode feeling thirsty as shit. Elsa trailed after her, and bless her too, just because.

"What are you getting?" Anna asked her.

"Whatever you're getting."

"That's insanely unoriginal."

"I'm not the alcoholic one here."

Anna laughed. She placed her hands on her warm, lovely, rosy, pinchable cheeks and said, "Elsa. Do you think the people who came here tonight did it because they like to sit on a stranger's couch? No. They came here because they like the taste of free alcohol."

"I'll take a cranberry vodka."

"That's my baby."

She made two cranberry vodkas because Elsa wasn't the unoriginal one here. It was Anna. Plot twist.

The cranberry vodka tasted hideous though, but free plus alcohol equals you drink it anyway. Then Anna remembered the eggnog. But there was no eggnog. And what Christmas party didn't have at least some crappy eggnog? So she stuck to cranberry vodka and to Elsa's side for good measure. They spent a good amount of time looking for the friend of the cousin, etc. so that Anna could meet them and they found him in the most obvious of places: the couch. He was bulky, had a goofy grin and whatnot. His name was Kristoff. Another plot twist.

Anna could have sworn he'd seen him before, and when Elsa told her it was from that one time they ran into him at a gay bar everything made sense. Then she smiled to herself because that had been a hell of a good time. Elsa elbowed her in the ribs, gently, with love. 'Not here,' her eyes said. Well, you can't blame her for fantasizing. Or you can. But also blame it on the alcohol. And on Elsa's stamina.

"So, Anna." Who's talking? "Elsa's told me a lot about you." It's Kristoff.

"All good things, yeah?"

"All great things."

Anna nodded proudly and so did her wig.

"What's your costume?" he asked.

"I'm an oompa loompa."

"I didn't know that movie was Christmas-themed."

"Everything with snow in it is Christmas-themed, Kristoff."

"Oh."

So she's enlightened Kristoff with her knowledge and now it was time to move on. What a himbo. She wondered if it was him who kept playing Mariah Carey. That would make sense.

They stopped by the kitchen for a refill and eventually moved to the side, right by the corner where you stand if you kinda know the host but not really but you don't wanna seem awkward and look like you're not having a good time. Anna kept looking at the green bow that Elsa had glued to her sweater. It was distracting. But Elsa kept thinking she was staring at her breasts and she wasn't. Well, she was. But that wasn't the point of this paragraph.

Mariah Carey gave way to Michael Bublé and then Anna was 110% sure it was gay himbo Kristoff who was controlling the music. But she couldn't be mad. This was his house and if he wanted to blast overplayed Christmas music until everyone's ears—even the neighbors'—bled, then that was entirely up to him. It'll stay in his conscience. Or maybe not. He was a white boy. Nothing ever stuck. Anna was still having fun, however, and so was Elsa. She kept giving her _the_ look. The one that said, 'Let's get out of here or else I'll find us a place in this house where I can get my hands on you without having to keep it PG13.' But they'd just gotten here, Anna thought. So she wasn't having it just yet. She liked to tease.

But not too much, because by the third cranberry vodka she was all up and ready to go. Or maybe it was the fourth. Who cared? Anna didn't. Willy Wonka sure didn't. Elsa was already grabbing her coat, so she didn't care either. The perks of dating an introvert.

It was shit cold outside, but that wasn't news.

"I'll drive," Anna joked and giggled. She was so funny.

"Are you drunk?"

Elsa threw the keys at her anyway. Anna caught them, so she was probs just tipsy. "Why are you entrusting me with the car?"

"It's the suburbs. We can go at fifteen and be fine."

_PREPARE TO DIE!!!!_ Anna calmly thought. They went inside the car. _What's that oompa loompa doing in a car?_ she thought as well, and laughed again.

"Are you sure you're not drunk?" Elsa asked. Her cheeks were rosy pink and her eyes were kinda glassy. And why was she so goddamn pretty?

"I'm more sober than you are."

"That's a first."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "Aren't you glad I keep being your first in everything?"

Elsa pulled at her wig. She took that as a yes.

Anna took the fifteen to heart even though it felt so. damn. slow. She felt worse than somebody's grandma. Hell, she felt worse than Elsa.

"I'm getting dizzy."

"But I'm only going at fifteen. I'm practically crawling."

"Can you stop the car?"

Oompa loompa stopped the car and ugly Christmas gift exited. Anna didn't realize they had stopped outside of the same house that Elsa almost drove into hours earlier until they were standing in front of it, Elsa taking big gulps of cold air and Anna just standing there, being her Anna self. The wig kept itching so she took it off.

"Are you okay, babe?"

Elsa nodded slowly. "I think you put too much vodka in that last drink."

"You made that one."

"Oh."

Anna reached for her hand and walked her into the white suburban mom's front yard. The deer really did look like horses and Santa Claus looked like the creepy uncle you try to stay away from. The snowman looked like everybody else's nightmares. They stood in the yard, both of them staring at the fireplace that burned in the living room—with everything hella open, by the way. Who kept the curtains drawn during these hard times? And where was the All-American family? Was this meant to be a horror story?

"We look like total creeps right now," Anna muttered.

She saw Elsa nod from her peripheral vision. Then she felt a hand wrap around her arm. "Sit with me for a while."

"Uh, here? I'm not sure we're allow—okay, yes. Okay." She sat down with Elsa on the snow knowing she'd regret it soon. Like, a moment long. However long that was.

Elsa hugged her, nuzzling her neck. It tickled, but in a nice way. "I'll keep you warm," she mumbled.

"I doubt that."

"I can try."

"You really are drunk," Anna laughed.

"And you smell like feet."

"Okay. Ew. That was the wig."

"Sure, Jan."

"Who's Jan."

"My lover."

"Ah." Her ass was beginning to go numb. "Do I really smell like feet?"

"No, you smell like Anna."

She smiled like an idiot. "I bet your lover could never," she said.

"No," Elsa mumbled, still close to her neck. "That's why I love you the most."

Anna decided it was enough sitting so she kinda just flipped over and pushed Elsa to the ground—cause she didn't mind the snow and the cold and whatnot—so that she could place herself on top of her. Elsa was laughing but that was probably because she was drunk. Under different circumstances she'd be the one questioning whether it was a good idea to make out on some stranger's yard.

But they didn't make out then—PLOT TWIST NUMERO TREE!

Anna got too distracted watching Elsa laugh, in a non-creepy way. Because real talk: Anna was stupidly in love. She was in love in the cheesiest of ways. In an 'I want to spend the rest of my chaotic life with you' kinda way. She was in love with Elsa in a way that made her _know_ she looked like an idiot when she stared at her but didn't care anyway. She was in love with Elsa in a way Jan could never. And she knew Elsa was in love with her, too. Because honestly, who looks at you as though you're the most precious thing in the world even though you look like one of Willy Wonka's factory workers on a bad day? No one, your honor, that's who. So somewhere deep down she knew what was coming before she even got the chance to register her own words.

"Marry me."

Elsa fixed her eyes on her. The laugh became a giggle. "What?"

"Marry me, Elsa."

All the metaphors in the fanfic world about Elsa's blue eyes go here. It's as though they lit up at those words, or maybe it was the yard's obnoxious, bright lights. They will never know. The only thing Anna will remember with perfect clarity about that night will be Elsa's response.

"Yes."


End file.
